


I am the child I was

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [241]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Families of Choice, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, POV Outsider, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-09 11:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3247544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ex-Winter Soldier is regressed to Bucky Barnes, aged 12.  It can't be reversed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: I am the child I was  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton  
> Warnings: references to the Winter Soldier’s backstory; some grief/guilt  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Point of view: third  
> Wordcount: 2375  
> Prompt: Any/Any Coming of age. I want to see what happens if one of the avengers is deaged and they have to grow up. Not magic cure.

He still dreams about that first day, when he turned away from helping Rebecca with her sack of books and stepped into the future. Stevie had been just behind Rebecca and guiding Olivia with her bag, and thankfully Jules had been home with Mama, and the future was – 

He’d frozen, eyes wide at the bright room that looked like something out of HG Wells, and when he looked back for his sisters and Steve, there was only a room full of equipment. He’d tried not to panic, but he still tastes the fear sometimes, and it’s always worse in the dream. 

He’d closed his eyes for just a moment to fight the panic down, and that’s when the building collapsed around him. In the dream, this is when he suffocates, crying for his mama. Or he digs around in the rubble, finding Becca and Livy and Jules already dead, and then Steve, who dies blaming him. 

When he’s awake, he barely remembers what Julia looked like. Or Mama’s voice, or the books Rebecca liked the most, or what made Olivia laugh the loudest, or what Pa did at work. 

In real life, he was found by a team of heroes and he woke up in a hospital the likes of which he’d never seen before. He remembers thinking, _If only Stevie could come to a place like this_ , and then the nurses where checking him over, and one of the heroes was back, one who looked so much like Steve. 

Once, when they were kids, he’d told Steve that he was a terrible liar and Steve had laughed, “What do I need to lie for?”

It took a single minute for him to realize it _was_ Steve in front of him, and that (somehow, someway) he was in the future. 

He still dreams about that day. Usually nightmares, but not always. He’s watched the footage and read the reports, devoured the six ‘official’ biographies and scoffed his way through the dozen ‘biopics’ on him and Stevie and their team. 

He’d marveled for weeks about being in the history books. He’d delighted in being a hero. “You and me, Stevie,” he’d laughed, “you and me.”

For six months, he’d lived in a building straight out his favorite books, thinking it was such an adventure. He knew he’d go home at some point, so he wanted to memorize everything so he could tell Steve, so he could get it just right. He’d shadowed Mr. Stark for days at a time, asking him all sorts of questions about his machines, made friends with Mr. Jarvis and the robots (robots!). He’d watched Mr. Hawkeye shoot arrows and taken a few gymnastics lessons with Ms. Romanoff, and peppered Dr. Banner with questions about time travel. 

But he spent most of his time with Steve, all grown up and _healthy_. It was the neatest thing. After he read the book about the project, though, he shouted at Steve because it said right there that the procedure hurt something fierce, and Steve laughed at him, “You said that last time, too.”

For six months, they tried to find a way to send him home, but finally, Steve and Mr. Stark had sat him down in the middle of Mr. Stark’s lab, with Butterfingers on the left and Dummy on the right, with You at his back, and Mr. Stark said, “We can’t send you home.”

Most of his dreams are about the first day. Sometimes, though, he dreams about the day he stopped being Bucky Barnes, how he stared up at Tony Stark in disbelief, and then turned beseeching eyes on Steve. Steve had said, “I’m so sorry, Buck,” and he hadn’t known what to do, so he ran. Mr. Jarvis hadn’t wanted to let him up to the roof, but he’d cried, crouched in the corner of the elevator, as small as he could make himself, and finally, the elevator began going upwards. 

Steve had tried to explain, before he’d even been let out of the hospital, that they’d been fighting a villain and there was a beam of light. His adult self had gotten in the way—the beam had been meant for Steve. It was a one-time thing, Ms. Romanoff said on the roof, while he’d looked out over the New York of the future. They couldn’t undo what the beam did. Couldn’t send him home or bring his adult self back. 

(He knows, of course, that it’s not time travel. He’s known that since he looked up into Stevie Rogers’ eyes on a giant’s face. It’s not time travel. His body has been regressed.) 

“What happens now?” he asked Ms. Romanoff. It didn’t seem like an adventure anymore. He wanted to go home, to Mama and Pa and Becca and Livy and Jules and Steve. 

“It’s up to you,” Ms. Romanoff said.

He stopped being Bucky Barnes that day. Eighty-six years in the future, long after the history books said he died. He stopped being Bucky Barnes for the second time but the only one he remembers. 

He dreams about the first day and the last day, and he wakes up. He wakes up every time. 

.

“You excited?” Grant asks when Jem stumbles into the kitchen and slumps onto the stool next to him at the breakfast bar. 

Jem shrugs, grabbing for the cheerios with one hand and stealing Grant’s coffee with the other. 

Grant scowls at him but Jem just drains the mug before handing it back and reaching for the milk to fill up the bowl. 

“Class of 2022,” Grant murmurs after a moment, idly stirring the remnants of his own cheerios. “Wow.” 

“Tony sent me a vid last night,” Jem tells him. “And Nat says my present is in the mail.” 

“They would come,” Grant assures him (for the eighth time), “if, you know…” 

Jem snorts. “Trust me,” he says, “I know.” 

.

History books were rewritten after the Project Insight debacle and reveal that Hydra had manipulated the world for the better part of a century. Some of Jem’s classmates used to talk about it in social studies, but it’s not like Jem would’ve known. All of them remember the terrifying days, just after; they were young, seven and eight, but they remember. 

After leaving New York, Steve and Bucky took a year off. They became Grant and Jem, immersed themselves in the world-that-is. Before, Steve had been doing a little on his own, notebooks full of lists. Then, Project Insight… 

Jem knows what became of Bucky Barnes, even though it’s not common knowledge. They’d tried hiding it at first, Steve and his team, for ‘his own good,’ but when Jem asked flat-out, eight months after leaving New York, Grant crumbled. It was horrifying to listen to, and it clearly hurt Grant to say, but Jem breathed easier, after. It was the last secret the future had to hide. 

(Tony Stark, Jem learns later, has it arranged so that if they need to, Jem’s existence will be explained by Hydra attempting to clone the Winter Soldier. They conducted tests – the enhancements the Winter Soldier had, Jem doesn’t. Jem’s got both his real arms, the ones he was born with; he thinks, sometimes, that the Winter Soldier’s arm was _so_ badass, and it might’ve been cool to keep. He never mentions that to Grant.) 

.

Grant Reynolds has custody of his cousin James Reynolds. He goes by Jem because, he explains when the nice girl in his art class asks, _To Kill a Mockingbird_ was his mother’s favorite book. He doesn’t talk about his past much; Grant took custody when he was about 10. 

Salmon, Idaho, takes some getting used to. It’s quiet. Grant has an art studio and does commissions, when he’s not working for his online classes. By the time they have the three bedroom house with its little yard and the neighbor’s mutt that barks anytime anyone drives past, they’re Grant and James Reynolds. 

Jem doesn’t think about Bucky Barnes much, anymore. Or his little sisters, or his parents, or his best friend. He misses them every day, but. He can’t get back to them. (It wasn’t time travel. It wasn’t.) 

. 

Captain America retired. He disappeared from the public eye towards the end of 2016. SHIELD and the Avengers would only say that he was alive and safe. 

There’ve been a few times when people told Grant, “You know, you look a lot like Captain America.”

He’d just duck his head and say, “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

They don’t have to worry about Jem looking like Bucky Barnes for a few years, yet. He’s letting his hair grow out, and he’s added blue and silver streaks, and half the time, he wears hideous shirts just because they make him laugh. 

Jem’s at the top of his class. He’s popular and charming. He’s had a boyfriend, a girlfriend, and a significant other that hadn’t yet decided on a gender. He doesn’t stand for bullying. His freshman year at Salmon High, Jem got in quite a few fights. Grant got called down to the school at least twice a month. Since then, though, it’s been quiet. 

.

“You don’t need to worry,” Jem says as they drive towards the school. 

Tony’s offered to fund him for whatever college he chooses; he was accepted everywhere he applied. He’s interested in so many things – he’s devoured science books of all kinds. Sometimes, he swears he’s inside one of those books Bucky Barnes used to read Steve Rogers when he was too sick to go outside. 

“I’m always gonna worry,” Grant says. “That’s been true our whole lives.” 

The world is so big. Jem looks at Steve, who hasn’t aged since that first day in the future. Jem’s birthday is June 19, the day he stepped into this new life. Grant’s is April 5. (It wasn’t until he finally dove into Project Insight and the Winter Soldier that Jem realized the significance of that.) 

“I don’t wanna go to college,” Jem says as they turn into the parking lot. “Not yet. I wanna travel. Go places and see things. You know?” 

Grant pulls into a spot, puts the car in park, and turns to face Jem. “I know you don’t remember,” he says, “and I’m glad for that, most of the time. Me and you, we’ve been so many places.” Grant sighs, running a hand through his hair. “All I want is for you to be happy.” 

Jem smiles, reaching out to poke Grant in the middle of the forehead. “C’mon, punk, you think I’m leavin’ you behind? Me and you, snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef, three days from now. What d’ya think?” 

“I think,” Grant says, “that sounds perfect.” 

.

Jem knows that Tony is streaming the footage of his graduation to the Tower, that everyone is watching and cheering and possibly crying. He still isn’t sure how well most of them knew his adult self, but there’d been about a year of him with the team before – before. 

Grant’s in tears, filming the ceremony. Jem grins broadly for the picture with his diploma, winks towards the camera he figures Tony commandeered, and struts off the stage. 

.

Jem wonders, sometimes, about Bucky Barnes. He died a hero – twice, it turns out. The Winter Soldier, too, Jem has so many questions and no one to ask for the answers. 

During their worst fight ever, Jem had demanded, “You wish I was him, don’t you? Well, so do I!” He’d stormed out the house, slammed the door, and ran until he collapsed, sobbing breathlessly for all the things he’d lost by stepping into the future. 

He met up with Grant on the walk back. “You didn’t take your phone,” Grant said. And then, “I miss him. God knows I miss him so much I can’t breathe with it, sometimes.” Jem had looked away, towards the sunset, and Grant reached out to grab both his shoulders. “I thought he was dead for two years. And then I ran around the world looking for him for a year, and then he was – he was doing better, laughing and watching terrible movies and trying new foods, and goddamned _living_.” There was something terribly broken in Grant’s voice, and Jem had to reach up and cover Grant’s hands with his own, and he couldn’t look away from Grant’s eyes as Grant continued, “Then he was gone again.” Grant inhales deeply. “He was gone again but you were here. The Bucky I remembered, younger than I can ever remember being.” 

Jem had no idea what to say. He’d opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head. Grant repeated, “I miss him. But here’s the thing, Jem -- _you are him_.” 

Jem started crying again; Grant had been teary-eyed since the first ‘I miss him.’ 

They walked home together. Grant asked about the current science unit; Jem asked about Grant’s latest commission. It was a peaceful evening, and Jem began asking about his adult self. Sometimes Grant couldn’t answer, but he usually would. And there were questions Jem never asked – and he never asked about the Winter Soldier. 

.

Jem stays for Senior Night, hangs out with his classmates for the last time. Everyone wants to know about everyone’s plans, and there’s laughing and crying, and in the morning, Jem catches a ride home with the first girl he ever kissed. 

“Don’t lose touch, Jem,” she says, kissing him one last time. 

“I won’t,” he says, mostly meaning it. “Thanks for the ride.” 

. 

There are hotel reservations to make, plane tickets to buy, packing what to bring and deciding to keep the house or store what’s left. 

Grant smiles as he locks the door. “You know, one place we never made it to was Australia.” 

Jem grins at him. “Sounds like the best place to start, then.” 

.

He’ll always dream about that first day, the last day he ever saw his sisters or parents. And the last day he was Bucky Barnes, some of his nightmares will always include that. But he can’t go back. He can only go forward. 

He likes to think his adult self would be okay with this, and he likes to think he knows himself well enough to know he would be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I am the child I was  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton   
> Warnings: references to the Winter Soldier’s backstory; some grief/guilt  
> Pairings: Pepper/Tony  
> Rating: PG  
> Point of view: third  
> Wordcount: 1430  
> Prompt: Any, any, You obviously don't understand the level of insane I operate at (203)
> 
> Note: so, I thought this fic was a oneshot, right? and then I looked at a prompt I've been saving for weeks and was like, "huh, guess it's time to fill that." So, I have another chapter started, and an idea for a fourth. *hands*

“Sir,” Jarvis says, “Sergeant Barnes is in trouble.” 

“Wasn’t he sticking close to Cap?” Tony asks, dodging a blast and then hitting one of the fucker’s drones with a repulsor, dodging another, hitting again – jeeze, what a boring fight. 

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis says. “As of two minutes ago, they separated.” 

Tony does a quick headcount: Widow’s trying to get close to the idiot behind this and Hawkeye’s covering her back from up high; Falcon and Thor (along with Tony) are providing air support (and Thor’s gotta head home for some dignitary thing as soon as the battle’s won); Bruce is hanging back to be a last minute resort; and then Cap and – Barnes? What he’ll answer to changes by the day, but Barnes seems like a good go-to, Cap and Barnes were on the ground, trying to keep civilians out of trouble. Everyone except Barnes is in plain sight. 

“Oh, crap,” Tony says. 

.

Natasha finds the kid in the rubble. Steve’s tearing apart the scene looking for Barnes, and then he sees the kid Natasha has uncovered and he just… his eyes widen, his mouth drops open, and he reaches for the boy, murmuring, “Bucky?” 

Tony scans for lifesigns, but there’s nothing else in the entire building. Just this kid, who maybe looks like Barnes a little. 

Steve and Bruce go to the hospital with the kid, Thor heads home after wishing them all luck in finding Barnes, Sam and Natasha and Clint deal with the cleanup, and Tony tracks down every last microsecond of footage for the battle. What he finds is pretty damn conclusive, so he tosses an edited-together, streamlined version of it onto a Pad and goes to the hospital, after calling Pepper to say, “So, hey, Cap’s BFF got turned into a kid and he’s gonna need clothes.” 

Pepper sighs and says, “I’ll have something delivered. Is he alright?” 

Tony thinks about that and then says, “Maybe? I’m about to give Steve the news, so I’ll get back to you.” 

All the way to the hospital, Tony tries to come up with how to frame the words just right. But he sees Steve in the hall while Bruce is talking to three different doctors and five nurses, and Steve looks at him, and Steve says, “It’s Bucky.” 

Handing over the Pad, Tony says, “Yup.” 

.

During the fight, Barnes and Steve separated. Barnes investigated a building while Steve kept along the sidewalk. There was a device in the building with a sensor apparently searching for Captain America. The moment he was in range (about 500 feet), the device armed and shot a beam of light towards him. 

Barnes didn’t even hesitate. The footage is grainy, even cleaned up as best Jarvis could. But Barnes threw himself into the light and screamed for just a second and the light faded and in place of Barnes, there was a kid looking around with wide eyes – and then the building crumbled around him. 

While Steve and Sam deal with the doctors, Tony and Bruce try to recreate the device with what’s left. When she hears about the de-aging machine, Jane comes back from her beach vacation and calls up Thor on her inter-dimensional phone. His dad’s got him busy on some goodwill expedition to Jötunheimr, apparently, and he can’t get away, but he says he’ll ask some of the various sages and mages if they know of anything that might help. 

Meanwhile, Pepper starts on the paperwork to that little!Barnes can legally exist. 

.

 

Little!Barnes is… well, at first, he thinks everything is either a dream or an adventure. He tells them he’s twelve years old. He’s not as smart as Tony but he has so many questions about technology and space travel (he loves hearing about Jane’s adventures with the aether) and he listens to the answers, and sometimes, just looking at this bright-eyed boy breaks Tony’s heart because he knows what happens to this kid.

Tony never met the Bucky Barnes that Steve Rogers knew. Thankfully, he never met the Winter Soldier, either. He can’t say he knew Barnes that well, but Barnes had opinions on things, even if he only ever really shared them with Steve. He and Steve apparently had movie dates every Wednesday, each picking a sci fi (or SyFy) movie. They tried a new food with every movie. Barnes would go on walks by himself and then he’d tell someone (usually Steve but not always) one thing he’d seen that he liked. He was _reclaiming_ himself, and it was agonizing, but… 

And now there’s little!Barnes. He introduced himself to everyone as “James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky,” and he _devoured_ the books about the Howling Commandos and Captain America. He’s a charming kid with a smart mouth and a protective streak a mile wide. He explores every nook and cranny of the tower that Jarvis will let him into, and Tony looks at him and thinks about Barnes, and he just – 

He has to find Pepper, and he holds her, and he says into her neck, “We’re gonna do right by that kid.” 

“Of course we are,” she replies. 

.

For six months, Tony, Bruce, and Jane (along with what little Thor can provide magically, since he can only pop in for one day before his dad sends him on another mission) run simulations and plot scenarios. Finally, what they tell Steve is that there’s a 70/30 chance they can undo the regression. The seventy is that the procedure will kill him. The thirty is that he’ll get back maybe ten years, at the most. Bringing back the Barnes that was is impossible, and adding a decade isn’t worth the chance it’ll kill him. 

Steve and Tony sit little!Barnes down (with his second-best friends, Tony’s robots) and tell him. Watching his face – Tony just wants to blow something to smithereens, and when the kid runs, Tony grabs Steve’s arm to keep him from chasing. “Give him time,” Tony says. 

Steve sighs and sinks down onto the chair that little!Barnes just vacated. “What do I do, Tony?” he asks, head in his hands. “Holy fuck, what do I do?” 

“Well,” Tony says, throwing up some schematics he’s been working on, “you can dump the kid in the system,” and that gets Steve’s glare, good, “or you can raise him as the Avengers’ joint-kid, or…” 

There’s an idea Tony and Pepper have been kicking around. He’s broached it with Bruce and Sam, too, and called up Rhodey for advice. 

“Or?” Steve echoes, raising his head. 

“Or,” Tony says, back to Steve, “you take this chance to get out of the life, Steve.” 

With the ex-Winter Soldier tagging along, Steve would’ve had to go to ground, hide, never really been safe or free. Too many groups wanted a piece of Barnes for it to be safe, even with all the Avengers in their corner and an alien god-prince’s realm behind them. But one man and a kid… 

“Jarvis,” Tony says, “show him.” 

.

It comes down to presenting little!Barnes with the options. Steve wants it to be his choice and they all understand. He’s twelve; he’s not stupid. 

“Can I pick our names?” he asks Steve, petting along Dummy’s arm. “It’ll be like we’re undercover agents in a new world.” His excitement sounds a little forlorn. 

Steve’s chin is quivering when he says, “Of course you can.”

.

Natasha designs the identities and Tony sets them in place. “We’ll keep an eye on you,” Tony says, Steve and Bucky’s last night in the tower. He has so many contingencies in place, it’s amazing. 

“Thank you,” Steve tells him. “Thank you so much, Tony.”

“Nah, it’s not a big deal,” Tony says, shrugging. He knows that little!Bar—Bucky— _Jem Reynolds_ is downstairs, telling the ‘bots goodbye. It’s a smidge heartbreaking, to be honest. 

“Tony,” Steve says firmly, looking him right in the eye. “Thank you for your help with Bucky.” 

_This one and the first_ , he means. Tony shrugs again. 

.

Tony gets a little dirt in his eye the morning they leave, but it’s okay because everyone does. 

Tony orders Jarvis, “You keep a close eye on them. If _anyone_ makes them or tries anything, you scorch the earth.” 

“Of course, Sir,” Jarvis answers. 

He expects Pepper to say something, but all she does is nod and lean in for a quick kiss. “I need to be at the airstrip in two hours,” she says. “Conference in Dubai. Would you like to join me for a shower, Mr. Stark?” 

He says, “I would be delighted, Ms. Potts.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year between New York and Salmon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I am the child I was  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton   
> Warnings: references to the Winter Soldier’s backstory, implied bad things happening to a child and death of children, grief/mourning  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Point of view: third  
> Wordcount: 3320  
> Prompt: any, any, _It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything._

**1944**

He falls and thinks, _At least it wasn’t you_.

**2014**

It lets go and thinks, _I don’t know you but –_

**2016**

He lunges and thinks, _At least it wasn’t you._

 

 **January** (New York, New York)

Lucky wants to go see the boy, but his man who is usually somehow broken just pulls him towards the big doors that lead outside, saying, “No, c’mon, we’re goin’ to the park.” He whines and breaks away, trotting towards the room that moves up and down while his man sighs and follows. 

He pushes the button with his nose and his man mutters, “Alright, Jarvis, let’s go to the kiddo’s floor.” 

The voice without a body says, “Of course, Agent Barton.” 

Lucky bounds out of the room but the boy isn’t there. He turns his head, listening as intently as he can, and he sniffs, hurrying through the floor, but the boy isn’t there. Lucky returns to his man, head down, and his man rubs at his ears. 

“I’m sorry, but they’re gone,” his man says. “Wanna go to the park now?” 

Sometimes the park has children. None of them will be the boy, of course, but perhaps they’ll want to play. Lucky raises his head, tail wagging, and walks with his man to the room that goes up and down. 

 

 **February** (Durham, North Carolina)

Evelyn watches the boy approach the YA reference desk; she’s noticed him for the past four days because he just walks up to each shelf, chooses a book, sits down on one of the beanbags, reads the entire thing, puts it back, and goes to the next shelf. Twice, instead of sitting on a beanbag, he’s gone to the magazine and newspaper section and to sit beside a large blond man instead, and they talked quietly about the boy’s book and the man’s current article. 

“Can I help you?” she asks. 

“Yes, please, ma’am,” he says, holding out a scrap of paper. “The computer said this was on the shelf, but it’s not there.” 

“Alright, let me see,” she says, setting the scrap by her computer and pulling up the records. “ _Space Exploration,_ huh,” Evelyn comments. 

“Yes’m,” he says. “It’s all just –” he pauses for a second and then finishes, “awesome.” 

“Well, this book is definitely checked in,” she says, glancing away from the screen. “It was possibly just miss-shelved.” She pushes back her chair and stands. “Let’s go take a look.” 

He beams up at her, bouncing in place, and she can’t help but smile back.

 

 **March** (Starke, Florida) 

“We _have_ to send him a postcard,” the kid is saying as they step into lobby. 

Bobby looks up from texting Mike (the cheating cheater who cheats and then sends love notes like that makes everything better) and says cheerfully, “Welcome to the Best Western! Hope you’re having a great evening.” 

“It’s going good so far,” the man says, walking up to the counter. “We don’t have a reservation – is there a room available? Just for tonight.” 

In all his life, Bobby has never seen a hotter man. He wants to rub up against the stubble on the guy’s beautiful face, and the shoulder to hip ratio – _Mike, eat your heart out,_ he thinks, putting his cell below the counter. “Yes, sir, we do,” he says, grinning. 

“Look what I found!” the kid announces, dropping a stack of brochures on the countertop. He’s laughing as he flips through them. 

The man sighs. “Yes, we’ll mail them all,” he says long-sufferingly, and then to Bobby, “One room for the night, please.” 

“Of course, sir,” Bobby says. Throughout the entire check-in process, he flirts harder than he ever has in his life and Mr. Grant Reynolds never seems to catch on, which is disappointing. But at least Bobby can look his fill, and then watch the beautiful dude (who looks a little like Captain America, actually) walk away. _Damn_ , he thinks, just imagining – _damn_.

 

 **April** (Jackson, Mississippi) 

Tyrone doesn’t like many books but he used to make his mama read him _Captain Underpants_ until he could read good enough himself. He begged Gran and Mama and even Naomi when he first heard about the _Captain Underpants_ movie, and this is his fourth time seeing it, with Dan and Eddie and Dan’s dad. 

While they’re waiting for the previews to start, Dan and Eddie are talking about who the best bad guy is, and Tyrone just has to let them know how wrong they are when he hears snickering from behind him and so he turns to look. 

The boy is a little older and waving a phone at the man beside him, laughing, “Oh, _please_ , Grant, tell me they’ve fought Dr. Diaper!” 

Grant meets Tyrone’s gaze for a second, grinning faintly, before looking at the boy and saying, “Nope, I don’t think they ever did.” 

Tyrone turns back around as the lights dim and he has to poke Eddie sharply in the side to get his share of the popcorn, and the movie is just as awesome as it was the previous three time times.

 

 **May** (Cherokee, Iowa)

“Okay, so,” Mel hears from behind her, so loud it makes her startle and the ketchup packet explode at her. “ _Shit_ ,” she mutters, grabbing a napkin. 

God, her head hurts. Fuck. This week has lasted forever, and there’s still three more days.

The loud voice (sounds like a kid) continues, rattling on about the Sanford Museum, and he’s really fucking excited about the Planetarium, and Mel knows it makes her a bad person, she really does, but she just wants to rip his vocal cords out, him and all the other kids, and she should’ve just gone through the drive thru and eaten in her car. 

Her fish sandwich tastes like shit. Of course it does, she’s in the middle of fucking Iowa. Nothing tastes like home here. 

“Jim, inside voice, remember?” whoever the kid is yapping at says.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Jim the kid says, quieter a bit, but still so loud. _Everything_ is loud on day four of the migraine from hell. 

Maybe she should go back to the doctor? Right, as if that’s gonna happen. 

She drops the sandwich back into its box and scoops up the couple of napkins and ketchup packet. Half the sandwich is left but her stomach is roiling and she really needs to find a quiet, dark place to hide in before her head explodes. 

The kid Jim is still yammering on as the door swings shut behind her. It’s such a fucking bright day. She hates it. 

 

 **June** (Dinosaur National Monument, Utah) 

“Izzy, stop hitting your brother,” Charles tells his younger granddaughter. Monica is off somewhere calling her boyfriend to complain about whatever’s annoying her today, leaving him to corral the three young ones by himself. He loves his grandkids, he really does, but he’s not as quick as he used to be. 

“Izzy, I mean it,” he says, because Harry _will_ hit her back, and he’s much stronger than her. 

“PawPaw,” Zack shouts, “I wanna see the Stegosaurus!” The younger two immediately take up the shout. 

Charles turns to Zack, trying to quiet him down so he call pull out his schedule for the day; he and Karin already planned out every exhibit, based on what the kids liked, but as Charles roots around in his small backpack, he can’t find the schedule. Which isn’t a problem because it’s also on Monica’s phone – except, who knows where Monica is? Damnit. 

Zack’s muttering to himself about Stegosaurs when Charles realizes the other two are being entirely too quiet. Charles spins back around and Izzy and Harry aren’t there anymore. 

Karin’s going to be so pissed. Charles takes a deep breath, grabs Zack’s hand, and makes for the nearest ranger. Just as he’s about to get the woman’s attention, he hears, “Excuse me, sir!” and he turns – there’s a man waving at him while a boy crouches down beside Izzy and Harry. 

He hasn’t felt so relieved since the doctor said Georgia would be just fine. “C’mon, Zack,” he says, hurrying over to where his grandkids are just happy as can be. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” the man says when Charles is close enough. “I saw this one,” nodding at Harry, “about to go over the rail, with the littler one on his heels.” He’s smiling sheepishly. “When I asked who they were with, Harry pointed towards you.” 

“Thank you so much,” Charles says, and then Izzy and Harry look up, and they both beg, “Can we stay with Jem, please please please?”

While it would make the day so much easier to have another adult around, “We don’t want to bother them on their trip,” Charles says. 

The man’s smile widens. “It wouldn’t be a bother at all, sir,” he says, holding out a hand. “Grant Reynolds.” He looks familiar, but Charles can’t place from where, and he wants to say something about the guy’s messy hair, but it’s not his place, especially not since he saved Charles’ grandkids. 

“Charles Wilcox,” he replies, shaking Grant’s hand. “These rascals are Zack, Harry, and Izzy.” He gestures towards the hall. “And the oldest, Monica, is around here somewhere.” 

“Grant, can we go to the Stegosaurus now?” the boy (Jim?) asks, finally standing.

“Sure,” Grant says, looking at Charles. “Wanna join up?” 

“Only if you’re sure it won’t be a bother,” Charles answers. 

“It won’t, sir,” the boy answers. He holds out his own hand to Charles. “Jem Reynolds.” 

“Not Jim?” Charles asks, shaking the boy’s hand. 

“No, sir.” He looks towards Grant for a moment before glancing at the kids and then back at Charles, letting his hand fall. “I used to have little sisters,” he says softly. “I’ll look out for them, sir.” 

Charles feels his heart drop as Jem turns back Zack, Harry, and Izzy, clapping his hands to get their attention. “Now,” he asks, “can any of you read?” 

“I can!” Zack says, hand shooting into the air. 

“Me, too!” Harry declares. 

Charles looks toward Grant, who’s looking at Jem with an expression that Charles hasn’t seen since—“My cousin,” Grant says after a moment. “Things were… bad.” He shakes his head and pulls up a smile from somewhere. “Alright!” he announces. “Let’s find that Stegosaurus!”

“Yeah,” Charles agrees. “C’mon, kids, which way?” 

He’s out with his grandkids. This is a time to be happy. So he sends a little prayer up to Georgia and decides to be in the moment, where Izzy is climbing onto Jem’s back, and Harry’s clamoring, “Me next, me next!”, and Zack is firmly saying, “This way!” tugging at Charles’ hand. 

This is a pretty good moment to be in. 

 

 **July** (Grand Canyon, South Rim, Arizona)

“Holy cow,” the young American boy next to Keiko whispers. “That sure is somethin’.” Keiko makes a small noise of agreement, leaning in as close as she dares. It is breathtaking. 

“Excuse me, ma’am?” she hears and turns towards the boy. The man from his other side is smiling, holding out a phone. “Could you take our picture?” 

“Of course,” she says, stepping back and holding the phone long-ways. She takes three and then hands the phone back. 

As the two move on, she hears the boy say, “I can’t believe we made it.” 

The man replies, “I’m so glad we did.” 

 

 **August** (San Marcos, California) 

To find a bit of serenity after the hectic, horrible workweek, Rob heads up to Discovery Lake every Saturday morning with Milo (his older lab) and Bébé (his Catahoula/pointer mix). He runs his worries away and then they just meander along for the cool down. Sometimes, he brings Robbie, but this weekend in particular is Eve’s, so Rob just packs up the dogs. 

He’s been going up to Discovery Lake since Milo was a puppy (pre-dating Robbie, though not Eve) and he’s developed a sense of who’s a tourist. Usually, when he overhears people making plans for what they want to see next, he’ll stop and offer advice or directions. Kids often want to pet Milo and Bébé, and then Rob’ll chat with whoever for just a few minutes before continuing on. He’s got it down to a science. 

This Saturday in particular, Rob runs longer than usual because not only is Eve newly engaged to Rob’s ex-best friend and planning to move to Tallassee, but his boss is promoting the guy who’s been stealing Rob’s ideas, even though Rob has reported it to HR three separate times. He’s about ready to walk out, but then he’ll lose his insurance. So he runs and he runs and he runs until Milo is panting so heavily it breaks his concentration. 

“Oh, shit,” Rob mutters, slowing to a walk. He also unclips the collapsible bowl from his belt and pours a little bit of water from his thermos in it, setting it down for the dogs. “Sorry, guys.” 

While he takes a break, he decides to look around and see if any regulars are out this morning; he recognizes most everybody, except for two people coming around the bend: a fairly large blond man and a dark-haired boy not that much older than Robbie. Their pace is easy enough that they’re maintaining a conversation about sequoia trees, and as they pass Rob and the dogs, he hears the kid say, and “Can’t we go see the redwoods soon?” 

The man laughs. “The trees are the entire state away from us, but we’ll get there. What’s the rush?” 

Rob’s about to call out, offer a piece of advice, but the boy slaps the man’s shoulder, saying, “You’re it!” and takes off down the path. 

The man laughs again but doesn’t speed up until the kid’s almost out of sight. 

Bébé nudges Rob’s leg and he leans down to rub her ears. “I really miss Robbie,” he tells her, then he packs up the bowl and slowly continues on. 

 

 **September** (Carson City, Nevada)

When she’s bored at school, Lia leaves and goes to the Veterans Memorial. She’s been doing it since sophomore year and now she’s a senior, and no one’s even realized she’s gone. She figures that says it all, and until someone mentions it, she’s not going to stop. She always brings a book and she’s worked her way through all of Maya Angelou and Anne Sexton’s poetry; she’s now meandering through one of the various editions of Emily Dickinson’s collected works. 

It’s quiet, here. Serene. Just her and the poets speaking directly to her soul. She’ll take an hour or two and then head back, slipping back into school like she was never gone. No one notices. If it wasn’t so convenient, it might make her sad. 

If any of the poems in particular strike her hard, she reads them aloud for the birds and squirrels and trees. Today, it’s the final verse of a poem she’s heard before, though never the whole thing. She murmurs, fingers tapping against the words, “Since then, 'tis Centuries and yet /Feels shorter than the Day/ I first surmised the Horses' Heads/Were toward Eternity.” 

“I like that,” a kid says and Lia reacts by shrieking and throwing the book at him. 

He actually catches the book, saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I thought you knew I was here.” 

Lia takes deep breaths, trying to calm down. “Sorry I threw the book at you,” she finally gasps, holding out a hand; he passes the book to her and then steps back. 

“It’s fine,” the kid says. He looks about 13, maybe 14 with dark hair and blue eyes. 

It’s the middle of the day, so Lia asks, “Why aren’t you in school?” She knows it’s hypocritical, but she _is_ planning on heading back soon. 

The kid shrugs. “We’re traveling, my cousin and me.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder, saying, “Grant’s looking at the memorial.” 

Lia glances at the book and then back up at him. “Poetry’s meant to be read aloud,” she says. “While you wait, you wanna hear more?” None of the kids at school have ever cared about poetry the way she does – or, if they do, they sure haven’t let on. 

But the kid just grins brightly. “Sure!” he says, hurrying forward to plop down beside her. 

She finds ‘Because I could not stop for Death’ again and reads the whole thing aloud, then turns the page and keeps going. 

 

 **October** (Seaside, Oregon)

It’s not the first time Ashton has had to deliver a pizza to the beach; it won’t be the last. It is, however, the last delivery ze has today, which is awesome because it means ze can meet Yolanda and Michael for a study date, the first time this semester. 

As ze is pulling into the public beach parking lot, Ashton sees a boy at the edge of the sand jumping up and down waving. Once ze’s parked, ze steps out of the car and calls, “Two large pizzas, one mushroom and Italian sausage, one supreme?” 

“That’s us!” the kid shouts back, and then turns to yell, “Grant, come pay for the pizza!” 

Ashton is pretty damn sure ze was never that young. 

 

 **November** (Seattle, Washington)

“This job blows,” Josie mutters into the com. 

“Hey, you wanted practice as the grifter,” Hardison says. “This is practice.” 

“Can’t Parker come do this, and then I’ll case the target’s house?” Josie asks hopefully before cheerfully greeting the two little girls shyly approaching for photos with Santa. The little girls’ – mom? same cheekbone structure, so probably – is watching from by the escalator, and also texting. “Thanksgiving was two days ago,” Josie mutters. “Why is Santa here already?” 

“Stop complainin’,” Eliot growls. “At least you’re not freezing. It’s frickin’ cold out here.” 

“Whine whine whine,” Hardison says. “If you don’t got somethin’ constructive to say, don’t say nothin’.” 

“Josie,” Parker says, “why don’t you look around and see if anyone’s worth pickpocketing? It should make the time go faster.” 

“Hmm.” Josie smiles at a cute toddler being carried over by a harried-looking man and discards him. Same for the woman with the little girls; if they’ve got kids that young, they need every cent. 

“Okay, don’t _actually_ pickpocket anyone,” Hardison adds, and then, “Eliot, go back, what was that?” 

Josie tunes out the ensuing discussion to focus on a big blond guy with a scruffy beard and a young dark-haired boy apparently sight-seeing in the mall. They’re both looking around, without any bags at all, and pointing things out, laughing. 

The man moves like Eliot, though. Not necessarily military, or even hitter, just… aware. And definitely not someone she wants to pickpocket because his eyes pin her in place, just for a second, like he’s noticed her, too. 

There is, however, a guy in a really nice suit who’d be _such_ easy pickings, so Josie starts fantasizing about that, but she’ll definitely be mentioning that guy to Hardison. 

 

 **December** (Salmon, Idaho)

It’s George’s job to walk the stupid dog as long as it’s above freezing outside, even though the dog is _Alex’s_ pet, because George is the older, _responsible_ one and Alex the spoiled brat. It’s also George’s job to feed Rex (which, _seriously_ , Alex? Such a clichéd name) in the morning and at night, and he does every day because he’s a decent human being and it’s not the dog’s fault Alex gets everything she wants. 

But because he’s out walking Rex, he sees the blue pickup pull into the driveway of the house next door, which has been for sale for years. Since before they even got Rex. He watches a big guy and a boy about his age get out of the truck, and hopes the kid has cool games. His parents refuse to buy him any more until he gets his grades up, but they’d have to let him be neighborly and hang out with the kid next door, right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I am the child I was  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton   
> Warnings: references to deaths of children, child abuse  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Point of view: third  
> Wordcount: 970  
> Prompt: Any, any, white lies and black lies

The first day of school, Jem keeps expecting to get called out for it. Uncle Tony made sure months ago that he’d have copies of all the cartoons kid his age watched when they were little, and his playlists are full of what kids his age grew up listening to and what’s popular now.   
He’s fourteen years old. He’s a freshman at Salmon High in Salmon, Idaho. He and his cousin (who has custody for reasons neither will talk about) moved for a fresh start. Grant is twenty-eight and has had custody for four years. They’re all each other has. 

Jem’s the only new kid. He’s been in big cities and passed through small towns, and Salmon’s quiet. It seems like a good place. The neighbors are friendly and while everyone is tracking down their lockers, George waves at Jem. Jem smiles and waves back. 

His name is Jem Reynolds. He’s fourteen years old. He used to have little sisters but he doesn’t anymore.

This is his life now. He can’t go back so he has to go forward. He squares his shoulders, stands up tall, and cuts a path through the hallway. 

…

Five months into the school year, the phone rings while Grant’s working on a landscape for Mrs. Wilson down the street. It’s about time for a break anyway, so he grabs his phone and heads to the kitchen for a glass of water. 

“This is Grant Reynolds,” he answers, gulping down the water and then refilling the glass. 

“Mr. Reynolds,” a woman says, “this is Danielle Saunders down at Salmon High. I’m the counselor and I’m afraid there’s been an incident.” 

The glass shatters in Grant’s grip. “Is he okay?” 

“Oh, yes, Jem’s fine. He was involved in a fight,” Ms. Saunders says. “Please, we’ll discuss everything when you get down here.” 

“I’ll be right there,” Grant says. 

.

Jem and two other boys are waiting in the counselor’s office. Grant’s apparently arrived before the other boys’ parents, so he greets Ms. Saunders and then meets Jem’s eyes. 

Jem doesn’t have a scratch on him that Grant can see, but the red-haired boy has a bruise on his cheek and the blond has tissues against his lip. 

“Mark’s mother is on the way,” Ms. Saunders says and the blond sinks lower in his chair. “And Robert’s parents.” The red-head crosses his arms. “Would you like to sit while we wait?” 

“That’s fine,” Grant says. “Did you watch the game last night?” 

While Ms. Saunders and Grant are discussing their favorite novels, Ms. Smith and the Daniels’ arrive within minutes of each other and each take a seat. The office is uncomfortably crowded, and Jem asks, “Should we step outside?” 

“That might be best,” Ms. Saunders says. Jem stands and the other two sluggishly follow him out the door. “No more fighting,” Ms. Saunders calls after him. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jem says, closing the door gently. 

Carl Daniels crosses his arms and says, “So, my boy got in a fight?” 

Jessie Smith says, “I know Mark didn’t start it.” 

Emily Daniels shoots back, “Well, _I_ know Robert didn’t!” 

“Ms. Saunders,” Grant says, “perhaps you can tell us what actually happened?” He smiles pleasantly at her, ignoring both the Daniels and Ms. Smith. 

“I’d be happy to, Mr. Reynolds,” she replies, and the others quiet down. 

.

What happened is exactly what Grant had suspected: Mark Smith and Robert Daniels were bullying a smaller boy and Jem stepped in, exactly like he always did when he was Bucky and Steve was in over his head. The difference, of course, is that Jem has been taught to fight by ex-Captain America. 

It’s the first fight, so all three of them have detention. Watching the Daniels’ and Smiths’ leave, Grant can tell that Mark will probably not start anything else with Jem but he will follow someone into a fight, and Robert – well, his pride has been stung. He’ll be trouble. 

“Ms. Saunders has asked to speak with me,” Grant tells Jem. “Do y’mind waitin’ a little longer?” 

Jem shakes his head. He’s reading the most recent biography of Tony Stark and highlighting the shit out of it, chuckling to himself. Grant knows he’s going to take great delight in mocking Tony at their next check-in. 

“Thank you, Mr. Reynolds,” Ms. Saunders says as Grant retakes his seat. “Now, I have to admit that I’m a bit concerned about Jem.” She clasps her hands together on her desk and smiles at him. “He’s your cousin, right? Is there anything you can tell me that might help me with him?” 

There is a history created by Tony and Natasha that, while terrible and horrifying, is still nowhere near what actually happened. 

Grant says, “Things were bad for awhile, between my aunt and uncle. There was an accident and Jem…” He glances towards the door, avoiding Ms. Saunders’ gaze. “Jem was the only one who made it.” 

Ms. Saunders swallows heavily before trying to delicately ask, “According to one of his teachers, Jem said that he once had sisters?” 

“Yes,” Grant says flatly. “He did.” Grant looks back at her and says, “There was no one else who could take him in, so I did. It’s been a hard road, Ms. Saunders, but we’ve walked it.” He stands and nods at her. “We should be going. Have a good afternoon.” 

“Of course, Mr. Reynolds,” she says, also rising. “Thank you for your time.” She follows him to the door to tell Jem, “I’ll arrange the detentions with Mr. Carter.” 

“See you tomorrow,” Jem says, standing and stretching. He gives Ms. Sounders a bright smile and then falls into step with Grant. 

“So you’re fightin’ now?” Grant asks, shaking his head. “I am _shocked_ , Jem.” 

Jem laughs, shoving at Grant’s shoulder. “Wonder where I learned that from, ya punk.”


End file.
